


Kissing Game

by Creator_Chaos



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Blood, Forced Kissing, Rape Threats, Sexually Explicit Language, Violence, also lots of Vector character examination, cursing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 11:04:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7888891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creator_Chaos/pseuds/Creator_Chaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Yuuma really was too good. Surely he could spare some of that goodness. </p><p>Canon divergence within episode 102 (the fight in Vector's ruin).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kissing Game

**Author's Note:**

> LOTS of warning on this, please check the tags before you continue (the violence isn't major or graphic, just descriptions of fist fighting). Feel free to let me know if I forgot to tag anything. Also, I know this doesn’t completely line up with how Barian powers work, but let’s be real, it’s not like they made sense in the show either, so I’m taking creative liberties.

They were alone, for the first time since Shingetsu ceased to exist. They regarded each other warily—with Yuuma's deck with Astral, fighting Black Mist above them, they were left at an impasse for confrontation. Vector considered a physical attack, but he didn't think the form he wore on the human plane was really any stronger than Yuuma. He wished briefly for a weapon—the thought of slashing open Yuuma's neck was thrilling—but let such a strange thought pass. Since when had any Barian used weapons?

"Yuuma! Yuuma!"

Muffled voices called out, and Yuuma shouted back. "I'm alright! Astral, keep fighting! I'm fine, just win this!"

Vector scowled—that had been what got them here, Yuuma trying to get to safety so that Astral could duel freely. Vector interfered, and somehow in the process of triggering and avoiding traps, they'd both been dropped into this small, dark room. Nothing else seemed to be happening in it—merely another cell. Then it was just a matter of figuring out how to escape. At any rate, he’d be able to teleport back to Barian World once the duel was over.

"You're really committed to doing this."

Vector looked back at Yuuma, who looked no less wary but also wore a stubborn expression. "Really, that’s your plan? Your conversations are even more predictable than your dueling. I don't know how I put up with either of them so long."

"Well you decided to put up with them. Come on, it's just the two of us, and we've got nothing to do but wait. Talk to me."

“Talk to you? Okay, well, I think my plan to destroy the Astral World is going pretty good, how’s your life?”

Yuuma frowned. “You weren’t like this.”

“Acting!” Vector declared, throwing his arms out like a performer. This kid was too dense and too determined.

“I don’t buy that it was all an act,” Yuuma insisted. “You don’t have to keep doing this. There has to be a way that we… we could go back, and…”

"You wanna know if there's some magic way to turn me back into your friend, huh? Break the curse that's making me a monster? Fine, let's check." Vector stepped into him, grabbing him by the shirt as he forced their mouths together. 

Yuuma gave a muffled squeal of surprise or protest, Vector didn't much care which, but then he was shoving at his chest, finally breaking Vector’s hold on him and stumbling away until his back thumped against the wall. 

"Haha, well, that didn't seem to work!" Vector cackled. "Not sure what would do it if not true love's kiss—but maybe you just don't love me enough. Wanna reconsider and try again?"

"Shut the hell up!" Yuuma growled, sending Vector into another fit of laughter. He wanted to see how this game could play out. 

"I'd say I must have left you speechless, but you've always been this eloquent, Yuuma-kun."

"That's not funny Vector!"

"What, you didn't like it?" he asked in mock surprise. "I didn't expect you to have much in the way of comparison. I’m sure blue up there would fuck you, after that reaction to our little fling. But I figured that whole intangible thing was enough to keep you pure. Though if you've been a little whore, maybe that's why it didn't work."

Yuuma made a sound of disgust or frustration and broke eye contact, eyes darting around the room, maybe for escape, maybe for something to throw at him, Vector thought giddily. His lips were still tingling from the contact, and he wanted to know what effect it had on Yuuma, who was clearly off balance: was he embarrassed, succumbing to human niceties even at a time like this? Was that edge in his eyes fear or pleasure? Either way, Vector wanted more of it, and as Yuuma felt along the wall intently and absently brushed a hand over his mouth, he thrilled at the prospect. 

"Well Yuuma, like you said, you've got me all alone now. What else do you want to try?"

Yuuma didn’t turn as he replied curtly, "Shouldn't you be worried about the duel?"

"One kiss and already you don't care about my friendship anymore. I have to say Yuuma, I feel quite used."

"Can you drop the sick jokes for five minutes?" he said, an edge rising in his voice as he slapped the heel of his hand onto a brick.

Vector shrugged even though Yuuma wasn’t looking. "I thought you liked me for my sense of humor."

"I liked you because I thought we were friends."

"Well, you have no reason to like me now then. What a shame."

Yuuma sighed, casting his eyes back to Vector. "I still think you're my friend, somewhere deep down. All of that...” He gestured vaguely. “Shingetsu had to come from somewhere."

Still on about that. He was really too good. "And how do you imagine you'll find where he came from?"

"We could talk, if you'd drop the act for a while."

"And if I told you that this isn't an act?"

"Then I guess I'd do my best to talk to you as you are."

Vector laughed, squatting against the wall a little ways from Yuuma. "How considerate. Alright then, I propose a game, to pass the time at least. We’ll take turns asking questions, without any 'acts.' See if you can find what you’re looking for. You start."

"Uh-okay. Um, first... Why do you want to destroy the Astral World?”

“Other than for the general bloodshed? Because they want to destroy us. Self-preservation, really. But it doesn’t hurt to enjoy the necessities.”

“Self-preservation? If you’re both fighting for that, then there’s no reason to keep fighting!”

Vector shook his head. "’Fraid not sweetheart. Even if the Astral World changed their minds, we Barians wouldn't just let bygones be bygones. No, they started this war, and one of us will finish it. Ah, and look at that, you got a freebie out of me! Aren't you tricky. My turn. What did you think when I kissed you?"

Yuuma's eyes widened, and before he could speak, Vector reminded him sweetly, "No acts."

Yuuma set his jaw. "I was angry."

"Why?"

"You were mocking me for thinking you could still be my friend. And you were doing it in a way that... It was very... personal."

Vector hung on his words, on the slight shifts in his face and the glow in his cheeks. He really was playing along. God, had he lied about having to put up with him. Toying with Yuuma was decadent. 

“It’s my turn again, isn’t it? You said you wouldn’t care if the Astral World stopped fighting. So what is it you want?”

“The Barians? Or me personally?”

“You.”

Vector tapped a finger to his lips as he contemplated how to word it. “What anyone wants, really. Power. All of it. The ability to crush anyone who gets in my way. The ability to bend anyone to my amusement.”

Yuuma gave a quick glance around the room, then asked, “What happens when there’s no one left?”

That feeling came over him again, like fingers running down his spine, like a blade across his throat… Vector’s jaw tightened. “That’s another question. It’s my turn now.” He paused, trying to think how to get this conversation going where he wanted it. “Was that your first kiss?”

“That wasn’t funny the first time!” Yuuma growled. “Why won’t you just drop it?”

“Because it isn’t a joke,” Vector replied, voice going cold.

He saw something flicker in Yuuma’s eyes before he responded with forced bravado, “Well, was it for you?”

“Of course,” Vector said, a deep laugh building in his throat, “I don’t usually have a mouth.” As Yuuma shifted, he continued, “That’s two questions I’ve answered, and you still haven’t given yours. Better hurry.”

Yuuma huffed. “Yes, it was, if that can count.”

“Did it feel good?”

“No!”

“Really?” Vector asked, a little disappointed.

“I didn’t even think about how it felt, you were just suddenly kissing me so I pushed you off.”

“Would you have let me kiss you when I was Shingetsu?”

“I wouldn’t let anyone kiss me without asking!”

“And if Shingetsu had asked?”

“I… I don’t know. Probably not, I didn’t think of you like that.”

“No?” Vector asked, a fire lighting in his chest. “Who do you think of like that, Yuuma-kun?”

Yuuma gave a single involuntary glance upward, and the burning ignited throughout his body. “I’m pretty sure it’s my turn now…”

Vector stood and stepped forward in a fluid motion, now right in front of Yuuma. Screw what Don Thousand said, he’d get Yuuma here and now. “I’m bored of that game. Let’s try something else.” Yuuma brought his hands up defensively—Vector caught one wrist, but their other hands ended up clutching each other’s shoulders. Yuuma’s elbow was locked, keeping Vector an arm’s length away, and his other arm shook with effort as Vector tried to push it against the wall.

“What, don’t even want to know what it is?” Vector asked, breath straining as the force in his body converged on Yuuma.

“Well you were trying to kill me earlier, so not really,” he growled, bracing one foot against the wall behind him and forcing Vector a step back.

That’s right, his current form was not stronger than Yuuma. At best, Vector was an even match; more likely, he was a bit weaker. Luckily, he’d never relied on strength to get what he wanted.

Grinning, he replied, “Alright then,” and pulled back. Yuuma’s eyes widened as his force, suddenly without resistance, carried them forward to the floor.

Vector was ready where Yuuma wasn’t. He spun as they fell, turning to land hands splayed across Yuuma’s chest as Yuuma’s back connected with the stone floor. Vector adjusted himself as Yuuma coughed and gasped to get the air back in his lungs, pinning his wrists down and straddling his waist, bracing his calves against his knees.

Vector gave a wide smile as he leaned into Yuuma, who bared his teeth in return. “How about we see what you think of it now you won’t be surprised, hmm?”

Yuuma was thrashing beneath him as their lips met. He made sure to savor the sensations now—the rapid breath against his face, the friction as Yuuma turned away and he followed. Vector pondered if the heat that radiated from the boy beneath him came from exertion or shame or excitement. His lips were supple and slightly chapped.

Vector’s tongue skimmed between Yuuma’s lips and against the solid barrier of his teeth. When Yuuma failed to oblige his implicit request, Vector bit into his lower lip, worming his tongue through Yuuma’s teeth as they parted in a gasp of pain. Yuuma’s struggles redoubled, arms fighting to dislodge Vector’s hands, before coming to a halt, muscles quivering from the effort, or maybe from something else. Vector thrilled at his compliance, wanted to know if it was from pleasure, resignation, despair, desire, pushed his tongue in further—and felt teeth sink deeply into it.

“Mm-augh!” he shrieked, jolting upright and bringing his hands to his mouth. Blood leaked through his lips into his fingers. As he stared in shock at his own pooling blood, Yuuma’s fist connected with his chin. The punch wasn’t as hard as it could have been, limited by Yuuma’s position on the ground, but it sent Vector sprawling to the side as Yuuma leapt to his feet.

Vector pushed himself up, blood welling in his mouth until he gagged and spit, watching red streams run to fill the seams in the brick floor. His tongue ached with pain, the rest of his body with unsated desire. He turned his head to see Yuuma standing on shaky legs, eyeing him as someone would a rattling snake.

“So you didn’t like it.” Vector expected it to come out in a laugh, but instead it was cold and flat. It was only then that he registered the rage coursing through him, drowning the pain into little more than another spur onward.

“What the _hell_ is wrong with you?” There was something like disgust in his face.

“Everything. Oh, everything.” Vector felt a smile cut a jagged line across his face as he stood, moving toward Yuuma sinuously. Yuuma took a step back, and—oh, there it was. The _fear_. Vector nearly vibrated in anticipation as he drank in the intimate fear swimming in Yuuma’s eyes, the purple swelling of his lip slightly broken with bite marks, and he was filled with a pleasure that rivaled the taste of Yuuma’s mouth.

But it wasn’t enough.

“I want everything.” He moved forward in slow heavy steps, Yuuma mirroring them back, hands shaking by his side. “You asked what I wanted.” Yuuma’s back hit the wall behind him, and Vector paused, letting the distance between them stagnate. “I want everything from you.” He took one step forward.

“Stop!” Yuuma cried out, as if his closeness was an assault.

Vector’s grin widened as he took another step, wiping at the stream of blood from his mouth with a thumb. Yuuma looked around frantically, preternaturally still, as if Vector was an animal who’d be provoked by movement. He took another step, not quite upon Yuuma but within conversational distance.

“Don’t.” Yuuma barely more than whispered. “Stay back. Stop it, Shinge--”

Yuuma realized his mistake a split second before Vector did, eyes widening in horror.

Vector dissolved into cackles, slamming his hands against the wall on either side of Yuuma’s head. He leaned forward, their cheeks nearly brushing. Yuuma pressed into the wall as if he could dissolve into it. “If I made you scream my name,” Vector whispered, lips brushing Yuuma’s ear as he spoke, “which one would it be?”

Yuuma brought his knee up into Vector’s gut, but Vector sensed his movement and pulled back, avoiding the brunt of the force. Yuuma moved as his way was unblocked, darting into the center of the room. Vector spun around. He needed Yuuma cornered to have any sort of advantage.

They circled each other, Vector trying to force Yuuma into the edges of the room, but no matter what he tried Yuuma always ended well away from both him and the walls. Vector forced himself to relax, drop his shoulders, resume a casual stance. If he couldn’t get him cornered physically, then he’d have to try emotionally.

“What are you afraid of, Yuuma-kun?” Yuuma merely narrowed his eyes at him. “Did I hurt you? I could be gentle next time.” He couldn’t keep a leer off his face as he added, “Promise.”

“There won’t be a next time,” Yuuma snapped.

“Was it really that bad?” Vector asked, throwing a dose of wistfulness in his voice and adding softly, “I don’t have any practice.” He gave Yuuma a bashful look from under his lashes and saw that he was losing his balance again, so easily swayed by others’ emotions, so excruciatingly malleable. “What do you think I want to do to you?”

Yuuma slowed, the tips of his ears reddening as he finally broke his gaze from Vector and dropped it to the floor. “Well, you… want to kill me, don’t you?”

Vector could almost hear the thoughts running through Yuuma’s mind as he inched closer to him. His actions here hadn’t been murderous—he could have used any of the time spent on kisses to choke the life out of him instead. (Vector knew that he probably should do that, but he’d worry about plans when he wasn’t having such fun, wasn’t strung tight with anticipation.) But Yuuma couldn’t be so self-absorbed as to think this was merely about kisses, and Vector was sure he wasn’t so naïve that the plethora of delicious escapades they could get up to hadn’t crossed his mind. (Vector wasn’t sure where these desires were coming from, since Barian forms had no such capacities, but he wasn’t one to interrogate his pleasures.) Was Yuuma too embarrassed or repelled by the prospect to voice it? Was he questioning his intuition, afraid he might make a fool of himself or even give Vector ideas? Vector decided to end his musings.

He pounced, one hand grabbing his upper arm and the other his throat. Yuuma stumbled in surprise but then planted his feet firmly. “I don’t want to kill you, Yuuma,” Vector crooned, struggling to keep from being dislodged. “I want to _take_ you.”

Yuuma’s eyes widened, and as his grip faltered Vector gained the upper hand. He threw him to the ground again—he needed the advantage of gravity to keep him in place. He didn’t get the chance to position himself—he sprawled across Yuuma, hands braced against his shoulders. Yuuma grabbed his arms at the elbows, straining to lift himself, but Vector’s weight held him in place.

“I want to take everything from you,” he said, leaning close to Yuuma’s face. “You were just a means at first, just the sad sap that got saddled with that glowstick up there, just someone to crush for daring to stand against me and move on from. But you…” He hissed in a breath; he was shaking, with rage, he thought, but he wasn’t sure. “Through every week I spent playing your friend, the list of what I wanted to take from you just kept growing. Your little friends, all so painfully dumb that Shingetsu fit right in. Your little alien crush—ugh!” He mocked gagging. “You should have seen how the glowstick looked at you, thinking no one could see. It was enough to make me look like a goddamn _saint_. And even more than that, I want to take that—that thing! Whatever it is that lets you keep everyone from school kids to the Astral World’s Emissary wrapped around your finger! What do you think that is? Huh, Yuuma-kun?” He dug his fingers into Yuuma, who flinched back, suddenly pushing away from Vector instead of trying to pull himself up. Vector chuckled. “What, is it a trade secret? It’s okay, I already figured it out, I just haven’t figured out how to _take_ it yet. Maybe if I start on the others I’ll figure it out along the way.”

“You’re not going to hurt anyone!” Yuuma growled.

Vector’s hands shook with how hard he squeezed, and Yuuma winced in pain. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about! Here I have you pinned to the ground, ready to have my way with you, and your first thought is for other people! You’re too fucking good!”

Vector paused, panting—he wasn’t used to having to manage his breathing while talking, and it rather dampened the effect in his opinion. Yuuma seemed to think so too: he was shaken, but not any more so by the threat. It was unconvincing, Vector had to admit. He wasn’t even sure how to move without letting Yuuma up. Despite straddling his waist and digging his fingers into his shoulders, Vector was overwhelmed with a sense of powerlessness, and found himself saying something strange.

“Do you think your goodness is the hot or the cold?”

“Wh-what?”

“We were sitting beside each other in physics class.” The memory was suddenly more real than the stone walls around them. “You hadn’t done your homework—you were trying to copy Kotori’s while the teacher introduced the lesson. He said that cold doesn’t exist. Heat is the amount of energy in matter—cold is just the absence. Cold doesn’t actually transfer, heat does: the energy always spreads out until it’s equal, heating up whatever’s colder than it.” He gave a gentle smile, oddly juxtaposed to his situation, but his eyes showed that he was elsewhere entirely. “While he wrote on the board, you leaned passed me to give Kotori her homework back. You were so warm, and I wondered…”

His eyes refocused, fixing on Yuuma’s, which were wide and captivated. “So which do you think is the presence and absence? Which way does it flow? Do you think if I touch you, you’ll give me your good, or I’ll give you my wretchedness?” He didn’t know which idea he liked better: that Yuuma was a well of purity from which Vector could drink and drink until he was quenched, or that Yuuma was an untouched canvas that he could sully and infect, painting his own filth onto.

“I… I don’t…”

Vector smiled sadly. “You never did pay attention in class.”

His gaze sharpened and his smile turned feral as he dug his nails into Yuuma, who let out a brief cry. “Well, I’ll try to give you something to pay attention to! Let’s see, the human friends are easy, but I’ll try to make them scream as much as I can before they die. It’s hard to tell though, you humans die so easily. Astral will be more fun, so jealous. I’ll make the glowstick watch while I fuck you, unable to touch either of us, only able to look at your face and hear you scream. I’m not sure what kind of screams they’ll be, it’ll depend on what kind of mood you catch me in—”

He hadn’t noticed Yuuma’s leg wriggle out from under him until his knee slammed into Vector’s hipbone. As he gasped and winced in pain, his right hand slid off Yuuma’s shoulder; with his freer range of motion, Yuuma reached up and dragged Vector off of him by his hair. He rolled up in the same motion, and before Vector could even move from where he was thrown, punched him in the face.

Vector lay sprawled on the ground, hands clutching his face in pain. “Why you—you little bitch!” he shrieked, rolling to his knees.

This time a kick caught him across the skull, sending him down hard on his side, legs still half curled under him. “Stay down!” Yuuma yelled. His head was spinning, he felt blood running down his face, and he wasn’t sure which parts of his body he could or couldn’t feel, so he did.

In the silence that followed, punctuated only by Yuuma’s heavy breath and muffled sounds from above, it wasn’t rage Vector felt, but the hollow ache of desperation. Vector refused to admit to himself that he was just another fool groping in the darkness, captivated by Yuuma’s light, drawn into his orbit.

Their eyes met as his vision cleared. In his face Vector saw a strange mixture of revulsion and pity—the sort of face someone would wear when surveying some poor diseased thing. A face that said he’d want to help, but only if he could put on gloves first.

Vector never hated him more than in this moment.

He felt the duel end before the room’s shaking walls confirmed it. The voices became less muffled, and a clear shout of “Yuuma!” accompanied Astral’s glowing entrance.

No longer bound with Black Mist to the duel, Vector scattered into red dust as he teleported away.

\---

They descended on him after Kaito helped them escape the collapsing ruin.

“Yuuma, what happened?” Kotori cried.

“You’re hurt,” Rio added, fishing out a handkerchief and dabbing at the bit of blood still leaking from Yuuma’s swelling lip.

“What did he do to you?” Astral asked urgently.

“Guys, I’m okay!” Yuuma insisted, waving them off. “We fought a bit, but I’m fine. This is the worst of it,” he added, tapping his lip and wincing. “Now tell me what happened in the duel. They got away with the Number?”

Only after their concern died down and they boarded the airship again did Yuuma notice Kaito staring at him intently. “What’s up?”

“That doesn’t look like it came from a punch.”

“Oh.” Yuuma’s shoulders tensed, exacerbating the bruised muscles there. “Well. It’s still the worst of it.”

Kaito held his gaze, and when he heard the others say something about navigation he leapt at the chance of escape, jumping in with “Oh, I can do it!”

As he turned, he just caught Kaito muttering under his breath, “If you say so.”


End file.
